Mustard, Apple Crumble and Rice Cakes
by Nixi Who
Summary: Claire's pregnancy certainly was prompting some strange requests...


**AN: Hello! It's Nixi here again. It's been a long time and my best excuse is that I found an online forum and became addicted to roleplay. Anyhow, I'm now back and you can check my profile for upcoming stories and stories that I'm currently working on.  
**

**If any of you have been reading my writing for over a year (when I say that, I mean nearly two) you may remember this from my old series** _Lillyesque _**which has now been deleted, due to many of the chapters being absolutely terrible. My favourite ones are being posted separately as one-shots, such as this one here. You can also submit requests via review/PM, which there shall be more about at the bottom. **

**Enjoy!**

**PS. Don't own. Never have. Never will. **

Mustard, Apple Crumble and Rice Cakes

"Hershel!" I called, from the living room, where I was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine labelled 'You and Your Baby' in big red writing, on the front,. "Hershel!"

"Yes, love?" my sweetheart shouted from where he was- the kitchen, hopefully, "Is everything okay?"

"The baby's hungry!" I replied, stroking the large bump, which not even my baggiest jumper could hide.

Over the past few months, I'd began to notice that pregnancy effected everything. I'd always known that hormones were triggered during the nine expecting months, but mood swings were only the beginning of my problems. To be honest, I wasn't experiencing as many sudden mood changes as other soon-to-be-mums did, the odd crabby moment, but I was too excited and panicky to have a sudden outburst. The other problems were a lot more... painful. Swollen feet and ankles, greasy hair, outbreaks of spots, getting fat- or as other people called it 'filling out' and that was only half of it. Everything seemed to ache and the only thing I ever wanted to do was sleep. I couldn't walk past the Chinese takeaway anymore, which was the place we got dinner from on Wednesdays, without wanting to vomit and I was finding myself needing the bathroom more than three times than what I was used to.

Though all these things were part of the experience, and every Mother went through it, I sometimes couldn't help but feel a but annoyed. Pregnancy was supposed to be a beautiful thing, but looking in the mirror- if I was able to stand up to look in one, that is- I didn't see anything beautiful (unless I tried to look beyond the bump and picture the baby. All I could see was a spotty, frumpy, fat student- who was frowned upon by society for having a child in this day and age, while still going through education and not married. I knew it would be worth it though; the strange looks as I walked through the street; the pain- which would only get worse; the way I looked. After all, in no more than six weeks (the baby was due in five weeks, but there's always the chance of being a week or so late) there would be a little, gorgeous baby in my arms. A little person, who would look to me and Hershel for guidance. It was such a responsibility, but such a privilege at the same time.

"You mean _you're_ hungry?" Hershel laughed, although I couldn't see him, I could picture his face: smiling to himself, his dark eyes glistening.

"Same thing," I told him, smirking- again, even though he wasn't able to see me.

"Very well, then, I'll fix you something," he chuckled.

"Brilliant,"I said to myself, then looked down at my bulging stomach," You're always hungry aren't you, little one?"

I received two kicks in reply. I chuckled softly, and stroked the patch where the baby was kicking and tried to imagine what he or she looked like. I'd had many dreams that the baby was a boy, but according to the magazine, dreaming that your baby is a specific sex usually means it was the opposite gender. Still though, I could only picture the baby as a boy. A bouncing baby boy. A mini-Hershel.

A few minutes later, Hershel came into the living room, carrying a china plate of... a ham and mayonnaise sandwich. The horrible odour filled my nostrils and I had to run to the toilet- well, limp quickly- so I could regurgitate whatever was left of my last snack.

"Claire?" Hershel asked, concerned, poking his head around the door," Are you alright?"

"Get that sandwich away!" I demanded, looking up with my face going red.

"Of course," he muttered, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

I breathed deeply, then rolled over and fell onto the wall, my legs stretched out across the floor. _Don't let it bother you, Claire, _I thought to myself, _It will all be wo_rth it in the end.

"The sandwich has been disposed of," Hershel announced, popping his head around the bathroom door with a smile.

"Good," I smiled, "Can you help me up?"

"Most certainly," he replied, taking a firm grasp around my wrist and pulling me up, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said, with a grin, as I began to waddle back to the living room, "I'm still hungry though..."

"Of course, what would you like? Something that won't make you err..." Hershel was stuck for words; there was no polite word for 'sick'.

"Er..." I drifted off, racking my brain for things that I could eat. Strangely, my brain began to fit various different scents together until I found one that sounded perfect. "Mustard, apple crumble and rice cakes."

"What?" Hershel said, after a few seconds of strange looks- while I gave him a content one- and silence. "You want mustard, apple crumble and rice cakes?"

"No, I don't," I replied, shaking my head," The baby does."

* * *

**AN: Small, cute fluff. I hope you enjoyed. **

**You can catch my fanfiction update on my tumblr **(nixi-says-stuff . tumblr . com) **and twitter **( NixiTheGinger)**, so make sure you give those a follow. **

**Also, if you have any ideas for a one-shot, please tell me via review/PM. Must be Professor Layton based, but other than that, I have no limits. None. Noooone. **

**Reviews are great! ;)Nixi~  
**


End file.
